


Inferno

by pressedinthepages



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Female Ejaculation, Fingering, Smut, Squirting, jask is a smooth motherfucker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pressedinthepages/pseuds/pressedinthepages
Summary: An eye-catching bard steals his way into your life, providing new experiences at every turn.
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Reader
Kudos: 30





	Inferno

**Author's Note:**

> Reader Request [ Hey, I have a prompt for a smutty oneshot: What about Jaskier + female reader + squirting? (Totally okay, if you don't want to do this.)] this was so fun, and im livinggggg for sexy jask rn

You run your cloth over the same spot in the counter over and over, scrubbing mindlessly against a spot that doesn’t exist. You are frustrated with yourself, your mind spinning in the now quiet evening at your inn. 

The bard sits in the corner of the room with his Witcher, the ale in his hand threatening to spill with every wide gesticulation of his arms. He had walked in as if he had owned the place, bright and shining in the evening light. You had agreed to house the two of them for an evening of the bard’s music. 

That was your first mistake.

You had very quickly learned that his self-proclaimed “widespread renown” was well earned, his voice like honey spread over freshly baked bread. He performed with elegance and grace, taking each and every obstacle of a busy tavern in stride as he pranced around the room collecting coin after coin. You could feel your heart swelling every time that he looked over to you with his eyes the color of a lake reflecting the sky back on itself, and the one time that he winked at you, you thought you may actually melt onto the floor. 

As his performance was coming to a close the Witcher approached your counter. He was striking as well, broad with an unnatural strength accented by silver hair and golden eyes. His voice was a low rumble, sliding a few coins across the counter as he requested a meal for the two of them and a warm bath. 

You had just turned to call to your stableboy to fetch the water when a loud voice rang through the tavern, yanking your attention back to it. “Nah, she don’t need your kind here, witcher.”

The man was clearly drunk, but his words dripped with a palpable venom akin to that of a vicious archespore. He staggered up to the Witcher, who had hung his head with a sigh before turning to take his leave. You walked back towards them, intent on giving the asshole a piece of your mind when in the blink of an eye he is on the floor, unconscious as a deep purple bruise blooms across his cheek, a trickle of blood falling from one of his nostrils. 

You blink, searching to see how the Witcher had turned back and punched the man. However, all you found was the bard now standing at the Witcher’s side, shaking his hand ruefully. This is where mistake number two comes in.

“-ier, how many times have I told you NOT to start a brawl for me?”

“Now now, Geralt, this was no brawl.” The bard’s voice rings clear in the tavern as the few remaining guests take their leave. “As you can see, I have nary a scratch!”

The Witcher, Geralt, you now know, pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh before glancing back over to you. You can see some sort of apology in his eyes, clearly feeling the need to explain that this bard was some sort of nameless being of chaos. 

Shaking yourself back to reality, you had sent the stableboy for the water and had the cook prepare supper for the two men. Wanting to know more about this man you had brought over the plates, setting them down on a table in the now-empty tavern. 

“I must say, bard,” you smiled, filling both of their tankards with more ale, “that was impressive.”

He visibly preened, turning to you as Geralt rolled his eyes so far back they may be in danger of getting stuck. “Why thank you my dear, I just can’t stand when people fail to see humanity sitting just before them.”

“I’m glad,” you said, boldly setting your hand on his shoulder, “I’ll not turn someone away, especially not someone who risks his life for the sake of others.”

“Precisely! Some people baffle me with their ignorance, and I am quite glad that you are not one of them.” His smile was big and toothy, sincerity in its truest form. 

“I don’t think that I caught your name, bard.” You quirked your eyebrow with a smirk, carefully treading a thin line that you are not sure the dimensions of.

He stood up suddenly, bending over with a flourish and catching your hand in his own. “You may call me Jaskier, my dear.” He placed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, mirth twinkling in his eyes as he lingered for half a heartbeat too long. 

“Well, Jaskier,” fuck, even his name is pleasant, “the two of you will always be welcome here, even if I have to enforce that myself.”

“Hmm, I know that I will certainly be taking you up on that offer…” Jaskier winked before sitting back down, having found Geralt already finished with his own supper and picking at Jaskier’s untouched plate. “Hey! I haven’t eaten any yet!” He batted Geralt’s had away as you chuckled, turning back to the kitchens. 

They bicker back and forth, leaving you to your own thoughts. You attempt to keep your mind busy, wiping the empty tables and sweeping the floor after locking the door. As you finished you retreat back to the counter where you now dutifully cleaned the same spot over and over. That doesn’t last long, though, a low rumble demanding your attention from just in front of you.

“Might I take that bath now?” Geralt takes the key you hold out, silently climbing the stairs to the room. Jaskier brings the now empty tankards and plates up, gently setting them on the counter.

“Oh Jaskier, you didn’t have to do that, I’d have taken care of it…”

“Yes, but,” Jaskier croons, “now I have an excuse to talk to you again.”

Your heart flutters in your chest as he smiles at you, a well practiced balance between confidence and boyish charm. “Well, why don’t we go somewhere a bit more comfortable, then?”

You hold out your hand as Jaskier slips his own between your fingers. His hand is warm and soft, his fingers calloused from his trade. As you lead him to your quarters at the rear of the inn you can feel a welcome flush settle on your cheeks and spread down your chest. 

You close the door behind you, sealing you and your guest into your humble home. You can’t help but notice the little bits out of place, the sleep-rumpled blanket on the bed and the half-full mug still on the table, but Jaskier only has eyes for you. He walks close to you, his nose just barey brushing against yours as his eyes shine bright in the dull backdrop. 

“May I kiss you, my dear?” His thumb strokes down your cheek softly and you hum, nodding your assent. Jaskier smiles once more before leaning down, pressing his lips sweetly to your own. His hand moves to cup the nape of your neck as yours find purchase in the smooth fabric of his doublet. 

He soon deepens the kiss, slotting his tongue into your mouth and pushing you back up against the door. Jaskier’s body crowds against you and you can feel the hard line of his arousal straining in his trousers, sending a wave of heat straight to your core. You moan into his mouth as his hands rove through your hair, lightly scratching and tugging as you work on the delicate strings of his doublet. 

Jaskier’s hands replace your own, quickly divesting himself of his clothing quite impressively. He stands without shame, bare before your potentially scrutinizing gaze. Your eyes track over his impressive form, lingering on the breadth of his shoulders, the raw strength of his thighs, and by the Gods, his cock is magnificent. It strains upward from the dark curls around the base, crooking up at the end in a truly delicious manner. 

You cannot tear your eyes away as you begin to remove your own clothing, your skirts and shirt thrown haphazardly around the room. When you are finally bare as well you lead Jaskier to the bed, laying gracefully along the pillows as your fingers drift over his body. 

“May I?” Jaskier breathes, his chest heaving and his cock weeping at just the sight of you. You nod, pulling him to rest over you. He leans down one more, kissing deeply as his fingers dance over your skin. They are like whips of fire leaving smoldering embers in their wake, every new spot more sensitive than the last. His hand cups your heat, dragging his fingers up through your slick and pressing against the little bud of nerves at the top. You gasp and arch into him, chasing the luxurious burn of arousal. 

Jaskier chuckles into where he is sucking a mark into the tender skin of your neck, slowly pushing two of his fingers into the heat of your cunt. Your walls clamp down like a vice, pulling his fingers in as his laugh turns to a low groan tinged with smoke and embers. 

“Jaskier, please…” you moan, raising your legs to wrap around his waist. Jaskier pushes himself to rest on his knees between your legs, his free hand slotting behind your knee to open your legs even further. The strain aches beautifully and you clench your cunt around his fingers once more, wordlessly begging for more.

“Oh, sweet Melitile,” Jaskier croons, his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt, “you feel so perfect for me, like the comfortable embrace of hot springs after a lonely winter.”

You flush at his words, your climax quickly approaching. Jaskier’s hand moves faster and faster, the wet sound of your arousal obscene in the little room. His fingers curl upward, hitting a bundle of nerves deep in your core that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. 

“Yes, yes, Jaskier…” your voice trails off into a keening moan as the burning coil in your center snaps, an unbreakable wave surging through your body as your climax blinds you. You writhe under Jaskier’s fingers as he works you through the intensity, his own voice soothing as he leans to kiss along your neck. 

“That, my dear,” he whispers as you finally come back to your senses, “was incredible.”

You crook your eyebrow at him and he leans back up, giving you a view of his chest. Jaskier’s chest and hips are splattered with the evidence of your climax, the coarse hairs shining in the moonlight. Jaskier’s cock is flushed and weeping at the tip, bobbing with even the slightest movement. 

You lean up and push Jaskier to lay on his back, following to straddle his hips. You catch his lips with your own as you feel him thrust lazily between your bodies. “That’s never happened to me before…”

Jaskier smirks, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling you so that he is lined up at your core. “Well love, let’s see if we can’t make it happen again.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading :) you can find me on tumblr @pressedinthepages


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